Mr Clean
by Kendianna
Summary: Derek took to househusbandry like a fish to water
1. Windex

Cleaning supplies and childcare and patience and finding hobbies and making friends with other parents had become his world, and it was a world he embraced with quiet enthusiasm. Of course that didn't keep him from asserting himself as a fully capable alpha and head of house, but the minute his children were born all of his other duties became side-jobs. It had come as a surprise to their friends and family, to the pack, that Derek became the stay-at-home parent. What they initially failed to realize was that he was more than that. He was a stay-at-home _warrior._

If there was one thing Derek Hale knew, if there was one small fraction of the universe that he was fully versed and expert in, if there was one skill he held that blasted all of the others out of the water, it was his proficiency and innate talent for househusbandry. He would go to his grave swearing that one day he'd make his way back to the Hale firm, but in his heart of hearts, taking care of his house and family brought him more happiness and satisfaction than even his long years of pro-bono had.

With a great big daddy who also happened to be their alpha, his children quickly imprinted themselves to him like ducklings, and he was almost never without them. They brought a certain light and laughter and exuberance to his life in a way that had been missing from it since the days when he himself had been a big brother. Spending his days with them brought his soul the final pushes of healing that it had needed after years of miserable suffering. He hadn't talked to Stiles about it yet, but he was seriously considering homeschooling them, and all future pack children.

In all his years of said suffering, he never once thought anyone would ever be able to say it about him, but here and now, in his honest opinion, he was a pretty kick ass dad.  
_

Despite the equal give-and-take of their matrimony, Stiles had always had nagging suspicions that if there was a woman in their relationship, then between the two of them, most people would assume that it was probably him. He was a little less bulky, a little less growly, and according to Derek, far prettier. So it felt like poetic justice that he had become the one who brought home the bacon. He didn't just work, he worked _hard_. And though they were already supported by Derek's inheritance and insurance money, the fruit of Stiles' efforts allowed them to live well and easy. And that felt damn good.

As he parked the camaro next to the minivan he couldn't help but giggle. It would never not be funny that Derek not only drove the large family vehicle, but embraced it gleefully. Though Stiles made many attempts at nicknaming it, Derek refused to call it anything other than "the van". The twins had taken to calling it "VANNY VAN", which Stiles had mistakenly heard the first time as "DANNY VAN", and that's how the minivan was named after a Mr. Danny Mahealani, which he managed to take with a grain of salt.

On the front steps he dug out his keys, but before he could unlock the door it was thrust open and a small hand grabbed his own, dragging him inside "Come on daddy, save us from woofman!" and he stumbled in with a smile on his face. Until a large mist of windex covered his face. Upon further discovery, it was in fact water that had been food-dyed blue, and placed in an old windex bottle. Damn Derek was good, and that grin was practically feral with delight.

Stiles scooped up their babies into his arms and sprinted into the living room, collapsing onto the sofa "Okay, so the woofman has chemical weaponry, why did no one warn me?" "Cause it's just water daddy" "What? You mean he tricked me! I was sure he poisoned us all!" "MAYBE HE DID AND WE JUST DON'T KNOW IT YET" "There's my girl, using that keen scientific mind. Now tell me what we do if we think something might happen but we don't know what" "google fu!" "excellent work my brilliant progeny, now let's see what we're up against"

And he flicked on the TV computer and began scrolling the web, looking up "blue food dye + water + windex bottle = poison?" and his children screamed in triumph when they discovered that they had not in fact been poisoned. "Well we're safe, but we've gotta get back at daddy now. Got any ideas, any plans?" "we should jump on him" " i dunno, i think he'll probably hear and smell us coming" "well then jump on im now while he's hidden behind the couch"

Stiles paused for a moment and glanced over the back of the sofa, and to his surprise, Derek was in fact crouched right there. Wild grin still in place, and face wolfed out. He brought a claw up to his lips and Stiles rolled his eyes at the theatrics of it all "I definitely agree that we should just jump on daddy and be done with it, alright munchkins, prepare to launch!" and he helped them up and over the couch back and onto Derek's shoulders, who stood up immediately. They squealed and swayed back and forth while he emoted "NO! You've discovered my one weakness. Little tiny twin wolf pups. You'll rue the day you crossed me" and he tossed them back onto the couch before falling dramatically to the floor. The woofman was defeated.


	2. Oxiclean

Stiles is in a frantic hurry, he's going to be late. Like, _really_ late. Coffee in one hand and briefcase in the other, which, god he never expected to own and/or operate one of these bad boys, he races down the stairs like a bat out of hell. He doesn't see the stuffed bear until it's far too late, and three steps from the bottom he's hurtling forward. his face meets the floor with an unforgiving crunch, and his drink, which is still feverishly hot, is _everywhere_. He doesn't scream until he's managed to get himself to all fours and even then it's more of a restrained wail.

From his prostrate position he surveys the damage. his paperwork flutters about weakly, and the case itself is swimming cheekily in a puddle of his cafe au lait. He can hear it drip through the hardwood floorboards, and fleetingly remembers the horrible warped condition the old floors had been in before they had rebuilt the house. He was never there to see it, but he had always imagined the thousands of gallons of water sprayed on it to try and stop the flames - of course no one had cleaned it up, the entire house had been a scrap after that. And he's lost in that train of thought for a moment before rushing back to his feet and whirling around in a daze, unsure of where to even begin to set this morning straight.

And Derek is there on the bottom step, hand over his mouth. A chuckle escapes anyways and Stiles scowls at him furiously. Derek mock frowns, and grabs his hand, pulling him into the laundry room. They stand next to the large industrial sink, Stiles swaying in place like a rag doll while his husband unbuttons his shirt and fills the sink with hot soapy water. He goes on tip toe to reach the oxiclean down from the shelf - they had crafty little devils, couldn't leave chemicals just anywhere - and pulls a scrub brush from thin air. He submerges the shirt, and pours in one little plastic measure-cup of the powder. it mixes into the soapy water and swirls around.

Derek scrubs the material of the shirt against itself, and holds it up to check - it's totally white. Stiles stares on in awe, the scrub brush hadn't even proved itself necessary. Derek side-eyed him "Oh don't look so impressed. We got it while it was still wet, you can get anything out as long as it doesn't get a chance to dry in and form a full stain" He drains the sink and lays the shirt out on the flat top of the dryer, and as he passes by stiles to get the mop, he grabs his ass and whispers in his ear "I already called you in sick to work"  
_

They spend the better part of an hour sopping up the mess, reprinting the ruined papers, and Derek really does impress him with his knowledge of leather-cleaning methods, which in hindsight shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. It's midmorning before they collapse back into their bed together. They're about to engage in some serious foreplay when two feisty little pups jump on them. Stiles heaves out a sharp exhalation "This is it, my time has come. My own little baby girl tried to kill me on the stairs and now that she's failed she's brought her brother in to help her wage a full frontal attack" He somberly glances at Derek "They're probably going to eat my kidneys. That's what you want isn't it, my sweet delicate kidneys?" his children look at him in horror, and then their girl screeches "OH NO I LEFT BEARBEAR ON THE STAIRS"

Tears well up and Stiles, the pushover, reaches to cover her with cuddles but Derek puts a hand on his shoulder and turns the Daddy Glare up to an eleven "That's right, you did leave Bearbear on the stairs. Like I tell you not to every day. And do you know what happened?" she shakes her head and little sleep-mussed pigtailed wobble "Daddy fell on the stairs" she and her brother let out aggrieved shrieks and cling to Stiles. Derek pulls them off of him like untoward leeches "Uh-uh, don't be trying to get cute. You didn't put your toy away and Daddy could have gotten really hurt. What's the one thing we always always _always_ remember above everything else?" they whimper and mumble under their breaths "What was that? Speak up" snot flows freely as they blubber.

"Daddy is human and he can get hurt and he doesn't heal like us" Stiles rolls his eyes, but straightens when he sees Derek scowl at him in warning. He can't help but cut in "Yes yes, daddy's just a poor miserable human. But we all make mistakes and we all forget things. Don't we Daddy?" he allows his babies to climb him like a playground toy and raises his eyebrows at Derek pointedly "Will either of you ever leave toys on the stairs again?" they scream no in harshly pitched unison that makes Stiles grimace and Derek wince.

"I think they've learnt their lesson, don't you daddy?" and now it's Derek rolling his eyes, but he joins Stiles in tickling their young ones until their giggles ring out loudly. They'll have a lovely brunch together later, and watch hours of inane children's programming that will leave their babies entranced enough to maybe sneak away and have some time to themselves. Mistakes can be happy after all.


	3. Swiffer

Derek was a disciple of the philosophy that anyone who genuinely wanted clean floors knew better than to use a mop. Mops collected all the dust and grime and hair and food and just spread them around. If you wanted sanitary you used a something with disposable cloths and disinfectant - the wetjet was his swiffer of choice. If you really wanted deep down clean though, you pushed up your sleeves and you got down on your hands and knees and youscrubbed. Which he did sometimes. It was an arduous task. You had to sweep and vacuum first, or you'd be dealing with all of the debris that was already on the floor.

So while his little ones watched Dora on the sofa, Derek donned his bandanna and his rubber yellow gloves, and got to scrubbing. He wasn't just meticulous about the cleanliness of his house, he was downright anal, and floors were a pretty big priority of his. Little paws tracked in a lot of mud. There was nothing he hated more than walking barefoot and having things get stuck to his feet, like dirt or crumbs or spilled salt or puddles of sticky whatever that he didn't want to even think about. He loved the feel of a clean floor beneath his feet, and as the entire main floor and stairs were hardwood, that was usually a pretty big job.

But hey, he was a werewolf. As his husband could attest, he had the stamina to go all day and then again all night. A little cleaning was nothing.  
_

Stiles came into the house and his felt his stomach drop. It was quiet. Too quiet. He left his shoes by the door and padded into the living room. Empty. He turned on the TV, and Nick at Night blared out of the speakers. Niles made a particularly brutal quip about CC that left the Sheffield children laughing uproariously. He fumbled to switch it off. and scrubbed his hands on his face as he made his way into the kitchen. Also empty.

He almost wandered upstairs without noticing, but the something caught his eye. He looked down and sunk to his knees in surprise. He ran the pad of his index finger across the floorboard. It squeaked. Scurrying up he groping his way along the wall, he flipped the light on. The floors shone, they sparkled.

Now that he was paying attention, he noticed a heavy wall of orange glow assaulting his nose. He vaguely pondered how intense that must smell to little wolfy noses, then startled when he realized that Derek hadn't just cleaned the floors, he'd polished them as well. He'd really gone all out. The counters were spotless and there wasn't a dirty dish in sight. There was a note on the fridge telling him to look inside and not be a pig.

He opened it with bated breath and squealed with excitement. A peanut butter cheesecake. Untouched. For him. And a plate loaded with lasagna and a small bowl of salad. And a pitcher of what looked like his favorite orange mango juice. This was almost too much. He would've almost felt bad if he didn't have an ace up his sleeve. He made himself a mental promise to come back later and get all up in the fridge's business, and scuttled eagerly up the stairs (almost tripping and killing himself, because apparently someone had gotten a little sadistic on their cleaning jag).

Huffing slightly and with a bruise forming on his left ass cheek, he cracked the door to the twins' room. They were snoring. He suspected pharmaceutical assistance had been necessary. He shut the door and almost danced down the hall to the master, bursting in with no reservation. His grin, manic and wild, softened. His eyes crinkled and his breath left him. If he didn't know from first hand experience what a hassle they were on a vacuum, Stiles would've expected rose petals.

Derek was spread out on the bed, little red shorts leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Stiles couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been waiting like that, and winced "I'm so sorry I'm late. By the way, have I told you lately what a domestic god you are?"

A huff of laughter, and Derek rearranged himself, patting the bed SUPERSEDUCTIVELY. Stiles smiled because he knew sex was going to happen. And it did. It happened and it was so sexy you wouldn't even believe it. There was like whispering in ears and expressions of affection and dicks in butts and everything.

Sex.  
_

The sex they had was awesome. So so awesome. You should have been there.  
_

Derek was less than pleased to be dragged downstairs, but went more happily when Stiles promised that they would be fully naked the whole time. Nakedness. hehe.

They sat lazily at the island while Stiles ate his dinner, his grin, once again, downright mischievous. Derek picked a few bites from his plate here and there, and lamented that it was fortunate they had wooden stools, as he was sure it would have proved difficult to clean upholstery.

As he sauntered to the sink to clean his dishes, Stiles heaved a sigh "God Derek, I can't believe you cooked and cleaned on our anniversary. You realize how much of a tool that makes me right?" he could practically feel his husband just working up the verve to argue and he swiftly continued "Dumb old working man. All I did was spend money. Stupid silly old me - nobody ever broke a sweat buying tickets to the Bahamas. Or so I hear"

He didn't make it all the way to the sink.


End file.
